


I'll Stand By You

by giraffewrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), kid!Peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffewrites/pseuds/giraffewrites
Summary: Steve Rogers has everything he could ever dream of. A job that he loves, a roof over his head, and a family which he loves more than anything. Peter may not biologically be his, but that's never stopped Steve from seeing him as his son. HeisSteve's son.Life is good. Everything's going well.Until one night Tony gets a phone call from his ex fiance - the woman who packed up and left him and Peter not long after his birth, saying she wants to have contact with Peter.Steve doesn't like the idea of her coming back at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been in my head since January, but only now have I had the chance to write it to the standard I want it to be at.
> 
> Thank you to [saruma_aki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saruma_aki/pseuds/saruma_aki) and [SkiaWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkiaWolf/pseuds/SkiaWolf) for the help with the title!

Tony’s always done what’s best when it comes to his family. He’s always done all in his power to ensure that his family have the best life. That whatever situation they find themselves to be in, they have the best outcome. Even in the times in which his actions haven’t been appreciated, they’ve always been in his family’s best interest. Of course, he’s made mistakes. He’s only human – he can’t do his best at all times (and even though he knows this, he always beats himself up about it).

Take when he was suddenly a single parent, for example. One moment he had everything -  a fiancé, a son, even a family dog. He had the family he’d read about as a child and never thought he’d have. That didn’t last long, though. His fiancé, Pepper, the mother of their two week old son, got up and left in the middle of the night. Tony had fallen asleep facing her, his hand on her waist. Morning rolled around, and he woke up to an empty bed, the engagement ring left on the pillow with a note.

He’d cut himself off from people for weeks. He ignored phone calls, sent his assistant to meetings, barely showered just in case Peter needed him whilst he was washing. But in his eyes, it was what he was supposed to do. Peter needed him. He was a frail infant, he couldn’t defend nor care for himself. Tony needed to put his everything into caring for his son.

Only, he found out that when you do that, you don’t have any time for yourself. No time to rest, to keep your mental health at a good place, to healthily let your emotions out. It wasn’t until Rhodey came back from a tour, turning up at Tony’s door with shawarma takeout bags, a bag of presents for Peter, did Tony actually get his life back on track.

“You can’t keep yourself locked up like this, Tony,” Rhodey had said, sat next to him on the couch. “It isn’t healthy. Have you even been taking your medication?”

Tony sighed. “Yes, Rhodes, I have,” he’d replied with a roll of his eyes.

With the help of Rhodey, and a nanny that Tony had vetted three times and interviewed twice (one interview was more intense than the other, okay? He had to be sure she was right for the job), Tony got his life back on track. Of course, it was different to how it was before Pepper left him, but she hadn’t been around Peter long before she left him and Tony anyway. It made it easier for them all to fall into a routine.

It was thanks to Rhodey that Tony met Steve. Steve attended group therapy for deployed soldiers, of which Rhodey had attended out of sheer curiosity. Steve didn’t attend the meetings for himself, though. He was actually there to support his best friend, James, or as he preffered to be known as, Bucky. Steve himself was an art teacher at the local high school. He’d almost gone into the army, though. But he’d failed the first medical test and decided to pursue his other dream – teaching art.

Rhodey had met Steve once and set up a blind date for him and Tony. At first, Tony had hated the idea. Only knowing the first name (Rhodey dare give him the second – he knew Tony would try and find him online and cancel) of someone and a very brief description (‘blond, tall, looks like he cries when a dog dies in a film’), didn’t help Tony’s anxiety at all. However, Tony’s glad that he went on the date, because it turned out to be one of the best things he’d ever done.

After cutting himself off from people, and not taking an interest in relationships for six months, Steve was a breath of fresh air. He was funny, charming, handsome. But he also had more important factors that Tony cared for. How he stuck by what he said, and even though Tony didn’t agree with him on everything, Tony respected and valued how Steve saw things and his opinions on certain topics. They got on brilliantly, and after a few more dates, Tony introduced Steve to the most important person in his life – Peter.

Of course, by this point, Rhodey was on another tour. He’d stayed as long as he could to help his best friend back on his feet, then gone back to the army. Tony doubted he could ever thank that man enough for all that he’s done for him.

Much to Tony’s pleasure, Steve was great with Peter. Before Peter, Tony didn’t even know how hard it could be to please a baby. He didn’t know that they were old enough to decide who they liked and who they didn’t (and people called Tony fussy with people). But Steve and Peter got on well, to say the least. If Tony had to leave the room, Peter was content to let Steve hold him. He laughed at all the silly faces Steve pulled at him, and he absolutely adored the soft blue bear Steve gave him (that Tony scowled Steve for, but also secretly melted at the gesture of kindness).

After a few months of dating, Tony invited Steve to move in with him. Their relationship was public at this point – nothing with Tony ever stayed private for long.

On Peter’s first birthday, when Steve had called in sick to work just so he could spend the day with Tony and Peter (who didn’t really have a concept of what a birthday was, yet), Tony realised that that was it. Steve was _the one_. They were engaged two weeks later.

Skip forward six years, and they’re still together. Of course, there have been arguments and there’s been tough times, but they’re still going strong. They have two homes – a penthouse, and a house just forty-five minutes away from the city. Most of their time is spent in the penthouse due to their schedules, but whenever Peter’s off from school or there’s a national holiday resulting in a long weekend, they’ll spend their time at the house.

It’s currently Easter vacation, meaning that Steve and Peter have two weeks off from school. Tony still has his business to run, of course, but he’s taken a few days off over the two week course, as well as trying to finish earlier to spend as much time with his family as possible.

Even though it’s meant to be spring, and summer is supposedly on the horizon, the weather is atrocious. It’s snowing outside, and whilst Tony will admit it’s pretty, it’s also an inconvenience. Getting to and from work takes much longer, which means the time he spends with his family is shortened.

As soon as he gets in the door, he’s met by two things. The glorious warmth of the house, and two arms wrapped around his legs. He looks down as he shuts the door behind him, grinning at Peter. He hangs his coat up before lifting the small boy into his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Have you had a good day?” He asks, listening happily as Peter starts rambling on, taking the two of them into the kitchen.

Steve’s stood at the cooker, back turned towards Tony and Peter. The radio’s playing on the one station Tony hates but Steve adores – the vintage station. Even if he does hate it, Tony can’t deny how catchy the music is. He stands at the doorway, Peter on his hip, tapping his foot to the rhythm. When Steve doesn’t turn around, Tony coughs in order to get his attention.

Steve’s head whips around, a smile breaking out on his face when he sees Tony. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he apologises, making his way over.

Tony presses his lips to Steve’s when he’s close enough. “I wouldn’t either if I was playing such awful music so loudly.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “You love it. Don’t try and say otherwise,” he chuckles, then presses a kiss to his cheek.

“And me!” Peter demands, giggling softly when each of his dads kiss one of his cheeks.

“Did you pick up your toys like I asked you to?” Steve then asks, earning a groan from Peter. “Don’t groan, you know you have to do it.”

“But papa,” Peter whines, pouting his lip out.

“But papa nothing,” Steve replies. “Go tidy your toys away, then dinner will be ready.”

Peter turns his head to Tony. “Why can’t you bring one the bots home so they can tidy up?” He asks. “They’d enjoy it!”

“Because one, they live in the workshop,” Tony starts to explain, setting Peter down on the floor, “and two, because they aren’t your slaves. Listen to your papa and tidy up the living room, please.”

Peter sighs, dramatically throws his head back, before going into the living room.

“So dramatic,” Steve laughs. Then, at the exact same time as Tony, he questions, “I wonder who he gets that from?”

Tony puts a hand on his chest. “I don’t know what you’re on about,” he tells his husband. “I’m not dramatic in the slightest.”

“Sure you’re not,” Steve teases. He makes his way back over to the cooker. “How was work today? Any meetings?”

“Not today.” Tony goes to the cupboard and gets a glass out. “I was mostly in the workshop. Bruce popped in, we had some lunch. Said he’s debating whether or not he should get his medicine PhD.”

Steve looks at Tony with one of his eyebrows raised. “I thought he said-“

“-that he isn’t ‘that’ type of doctor?” Tony finishes, laughing. He pours himself a glass of juice, “That’s what I thought. But he said he’s tended to my workshop wounds so often over the years that it’s given him an interest.”

“Ah, fair enough.” Steve turns back to the cooker, “Will he continue to work for you whilst he studies?”

Tony shrugs, “I don’t know, but probably. You know Bruce, he’s never doing enough until Betty has to force him to rest.”

Steve hums. “Sounds like someone else I know,” he comments, smirking.

“Really?” Tony asks, faking obliviousness. “Interesting,” he walks over to Steve, watching him cook, “they sound like a menace, whoever they are.”

“They are a bit of a pain in the ass,” Steve agrees, not fighting the smirk on his face. He turns to kiss Tony’s lips, “Worth it, though,” he whispers once their lips have parted, foreheads rested against one another.

Tony scrunches his nose up, but he can’t deny how fond of Steve he is. “That was sappy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Dinner doesn’t go as smoothly as it could. Peter’s not a fussy eater most of the time, but he isn’t keen on trying dishes that are completely new to him. The issue isn’t that he doesn’t/won’t like it, the issue is actually getting him to eat the dish.

“C’mon kid, you’ve got to eat at least half of it,” Tony tells him, ignoring the whine that he gets in response. “I know you don’t like trying new things, but you can’t live on chicken nuggets and turkey twizzlers.”

Peter pouts, crossing his arms over is chest. “Why not?” he asks, slumping back in his chair.

“For many reasons,” Tony breaks his bread roll in half, “but mainly because it wouldn’t be nutritious for you.”

“They’re healthy!” Peter declares. He turns his head the other way when his dad tries to feed him the bread roll, which he dipped in his bowl of stew.

Tony and Steve look at each other and sigh.

Ten minutes later, Steve and Tony have finished, but Peter’s far from being done. He’s taken two small bites from the bread roll, the stew remaining untouched. The two men get up, taking there dishes over to the sink. Tony makes himself a cup of coffee, and when he turns around to look at Peter, the small child is finally starting to eat. Tony simply smiles, standing with Steve and talking, but the two of them making sure to keep an eye on their son.

After dinner, the three of them head to the upstairs office. There’s three desks, one for each of them. Tony’s is the tidiest; organised plies of contracts, agreement forms, and other business papers stacked neatly. Peter’s comes in second, his homework books stacked neatly, although a few pens and pencils are scattered across it. Steve’s is by far the worst. From paintings in progress to unmarked coursework, Tony doesn’t know how his husband can function with such a messy desk.

“All right, one more sheet and then we can watch a film,” Steve promises Peter, putting the physics homework sheet in front of him. He watches as Peter writes ‘Peter Stark’ at the top, then gets to work on the questions set for him.

Steve has always been amazed by how intelligent Peter is. It’s no surprise, given that Tony’s his dad, but that doesn’t stop Peter from constantly amazing Steve. The way Peter’s so keen to learn is one of Steve’s favourite things. Steve is always answering questions due to Peter’s curiosity, and even if Steve sometimes has to google the answers, it doesn’t stop him from loving it.

Steve’s broken out of his thoughts due to something on his hand. He looks down and sees Peter fiddling with the wedding band on his finger. “Have you finished?” He asks, running his free hand through Peter’s hair.

“No,” comes the reply. Peter moves his sheet closer to Steve, then climbs onto his lap. He tips his head back, grinning at his papa. “My pen isn’t working. Can I use one of your magic ones?”

The pens, of course, are not magic. They’re fountain pens, and every time Peter uses them, he gets ink _everywhere_. “Are you sure your pen isn’t working?” He takes the pen in question, scribbling on a scrap piece of paper. As suspected, ink comes out without a problem. “Seems fine to me.”

Peter sighs, “But it isn’t as fun as yours!”

“Tell you what,” Steve gives Peter his pen, “finish your homework with your own pen, and we’ll go to the art shop tomorrow. We’ll get you some ‘magic’ pens.”

“Okay!” Peter grins, finishing off his homework.

As well as loving science and maths, Peter also loves art. Every time Steve’s in the office to finish a painting, it’s almost guaranteed that Peter will want to do a painting, too. Steve doesn’t mind – of course he doesn’t. He loves it. He and Peter, even though they’re not biologically related, have always had a great relationship. It was strengthened when Peter found a love in art.

When the homework’s done and Tony’s gone through half a contract, the three of them head back downstairs.

“What should we watch tonight?” Tony asks, walking into the kitchen. Peter and Steve are making hot chocolates. “Spirited Away, or My Neighbour Totoro?”

“My Neighbour Totoro,” Steve and Peter say in unison.

Peter sits between Steve and Tony on the couch. His head is leaning against Tony, his legs curled up so his feet are pressed against Steve’s legs. His half full mug of hot chocolate is on the coffee table, although there’s still some of it around his lips, a smidge of whipped cream resting on the tip of his nose.

“I think we’ve seen this film throughout more times than he has,” Tony chuckles at Steve, Peter now asleep.

Steve smiles down at Peter. “It’s a good film,” he points out. He gently wipes the whipped cream off Peter’s face with the pad of his thumb. “The animation is beautiful.”

A smile forms of Tony’s lips. “How’s the argument for teaching students animation going? Any updates today?”

“Nothing yet,” Steve tells him, crossing his arms and looking at Tony. “But I’ll fund the subject myself, if I have to.”

“Steve, the school’s barely all right with you being openly gay, they’d kick your ass if you tried teaching a subject that wasn’t government approved.”

“Fuck the government,” Steve says in response.

Tony shakes his head, amused. “Let’s get Peter to bed,” he suggests, putting his hot chocolate down on the coffee table. “Then I should probably try and get some shut eye, actually. I told Happy to come early tomorrow, see if that helps with traffic.”

“What would help is if it wasn’t snowing,” Steve says, poking his tongue out at the playful glare his husband shoots him. He tidies up the couch cushions once Tony’s picked Peter’s up, only to stop doing that and take Peter into his own arms when Tony’s phone starts ringing.

Tony looks at his phone, confused as to the number. It’s not one he’s seen before, and he usually remembers people’s numbers if he hasn’t saved them to his phone. “Take Peter up,” he says to Steve, before clicking the answer button, “I’ll be up shortly.”

Steve exits the room with Peter in his arms, leaving Tony to speak on the phone. He takes Peter into his bedroom. As always, as soon as Steve’s tucked him in, Peter’s eyes flutter open.

“Papa?” Peter asks groggily, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“I’m here,” Steve assures him, kneeling next to his bed.

Peter simply hums in response, before closing his eyes and drifting back off to sleep.

Steve presses a kiss to his head. He switches Peter’s nightlight on, leaving his door open ajar. From the landing, Steve can hear Tony. He can’t work out exactly what he’s saying, but he can tell the conversation is getting heated. He leaves him to it, knowing he can handle it.

At the bottom of Steve and Tony’s bed is Lozo, Peter’s sphynx cat. Steve hates him, and equally, he hates Steve. They hadn’t even meant to get a cat, but Loki, one of Tony’s friends, had offered them a kitten, and when Peter had heard about it, he hadn’t let his parents say no. Steve’s still sure Loki only offered them Lozo because he knows how much Steve doesn’t like cats.

Steve goes to pick Lozo up, only for the cat to hiss at him. Steve narrows his eyes at the cat, but goes over to the wardrobe. He’ll get Tony to move him when he comes up.

By the time Steve’s gotten ready for bed, checked his emails, and gotten almost through two chapters of his book, Tony still isn’t upstairs. Although Steve is more than aware that business call can last hours sometimes, something desn’t seem right. He puts his book in the drawer of the bedside table (his last book was ripped to shreads by the devil in cat form they have as a pet the last time he left it out in the open), and heads downstairs.

He finds Tony in the kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter, his eyes are rimmed red and puffy. “Tony,” Steve says softly, slowly approaching him.

“It wasn’t business,” Tony explains, his voice rough. He can’t meet Steve’s eyes.

Steve uses his hand to tip Tony’s head up slowly, a pang of pain occurring in his stomach when he catches the vulnerability written on his face. “Who was it?” He cups Tony’s face.

“You’re not going to like it,” Tony replies, a tear falling from the corner of his eye.

The pain in his stomach turns to anxiety, but Steve tries not to let his face show it. Instead, he just repeats his question. “Tony, who was it?”

Tony goes to speak, only to let out a shuddery breath instead. “It was Pepper,” he says eventually, his voice quiet.

Steve turns silent, shock hitting him like a ton of bricks. He’s trying to process what Tony’s just told him. Pepper. Pepper, the woman who Steve’s never met but has heard all about... is suddenly back? Calling Tony for what, exactly? Does she want to get back with him? Is it money? Is it-

“It’s Peter,” Tony says, as if reading Steve’s mind. “She wants to see him.”

Steve doesn’t understand. “Why? She hasn’t bothered with him all his life.”

“Well, she is his mother,” Tony replies. He crosses his arms over his chest, “She said she’s wanted to see him for a while, now. But she hasn’t had the time.”

“If she wanted to see him she shouldn’t have packed her shit up in the middle of the night and left,” Steve spits, his anger and other emotions getting the better of him.

Tony purses his lips, breathing through his nose, “Look, I don’t want to see her.” He laces their fingers together. “But I’m not going to stop her from seeing Peter.”

“Why not?” Steve asks. “She’s never done anything for him.”

“Because she’s his mother, and he has the right to see her, and she has the right to see him,” Tony explains, holding back a sigh when Steve moves away from him, shaking his head“I know you don’t like her, but I’m not going to be someone who keeps their child away from their mother.”

“She lost the right to see him when she left the two of you in the middle of the night!” Steve exclaims, leaning against the kitchen island as he looks at Tony. “The only thing that makes her his mother is that they’re blood related. She’s never done anything for him, what makes her think she can just walk back into his life?”

“Look, I’m not defending her,” Tony promises his husband. “But I’m in no position to stop her from seeing him.” He walks over to Steve, putting a hand on his back. “Please, just try and see this from my perspective. She’s still his mother, she still has rights. In the eyes of the law, she’s done nothing wrong.”

“In everyone else’s eyes, she has,” Steve replies, biting his lower lip. He looks at his husband, “Why now, Tony? What’s happened to make her want to see him?”

“She just said that she wants to see him,” Tony replies. “We’ll talk to Peter about this in the morning, okay? If he wants to see her, then so be it. She can see him.”

“All right,” Steve replies. “But I’m saying this now – I don’t trust her, and I don’t like her.”

“I know you don’t.” Tony takes Steve’s hands, trying to give him a comforting smile. It looks like a grimace at best. “I don’t like her either, but this isn’t our decision to make. We need to sit down with Peter and talk about it properly.”

“I don’t want her left alone with him if she visits,” Steve says seriously. “I don’t trust her.”

“Okay,” Tony nods, “we’ll discuss it when we get to it. But for now, let’s go to bed.”

Steve follows his husband, anxiety burning inside of him. He doesn’t like the thought of Pepper coming near his family.

___

Peter’s ecstatic to hear that Pepper wants to see him.

Tony and Steve had told Peter that the reason Pepper wasn’t around was because of her work. Peter had never actually asked about it, though. He’d naturally seen Tony and Steve as his parents. He never gave it a second thought. They’d only told him because they didn’t want him growing up and hearing slander. It was easier for them to tell him a slightly twisted version of the truth, than for him to be gripped into a web of lies. Tony learnt from a young age that the media twist stories so much that they practically wring out any truth whilst doing so.

“Do you think I should draw her something so I can give it to her when I see her?” Peter asks Steve from across the table.

Steve forces a smile. “I think that’d be a great idea.”

“Right, I’m off to work,” Tony says from the seat between them. He gets up, picking his briefcase up. He kisses both their heads. “I’ll see you later. Peter, be good for papa. No running off in the art store, got it?”

“But the art easels are fun to hide behind!” Peter says with a mischievous grin.

Tony shakes his head. “Be good,” he repeats, before leaving.

Steve listens to Peter go on about how excited he is to see Pepper, and what he wants to buy from the art store so he can make Pepper the ‘best picture ever’. There’s a small ounce of jealously inside of Steve, but he does his best to ignore it. He doesn’t care so much about himself, but he doesn’t want Peter or Tony to be hurt by Pepper. Just the thought of her visiting gives him anxiety. How’s he meant to meet her? Well, he guesses he’ll find out soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam being a great best friend, a deeper insight into Steve and Peter's relationship, and Steve actually discussing his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely one of my favourite fics to date! I really enjoy writing it, and I want to say a big thank you to you guys for leaving kudos and comments, it makes me happy to know you're interested and enjoying this!
> 
> I wanted to get this chapter out last week, but I wasn't able to. Updates are probably going to take around one to two weeks, as of right now. It may change, it just depends on how much time I have to work on this fic.
> 
> I've also decided to add some hinted at Sambucky to this fic. It isn't much, but I like it, and I hope you do too!
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Steve prides himself on many a thing. Being a good husband/father, pushing the schoolboard to fund and support his art classes, and making a mean soufflé are just a few to mention. What he can’t pride himself on, however, is knowing when to stop. It’s his own fault, he’ll admit that. He always pushes himself too far. He always thinks he can do more than he’s able to when really, he’s only human. And like everyone else, he has his weaknesses and limits.

“That’s it, breathe,” Sam tells him, voice as cool as ever. He makes sure Steve’s back is comfortable against the brick wall, and holds Steve’s arms above his head, crossed at the wrists. He watches as the man breathes in and out as deeply and calmly as he can. “You’re doing great, just focus on my voice and your breathing.”

As much as he’d like to not have to do this, especially in front of one of his best friends, Steve doesn’t have a choice. With his asthma threatening to cause him a trip to the emergency room and his inhaler back home, he does as he’s told.

It takes a good fifteen minutes, but eventually, Steve’s breathing is back to normal. Feeling drained, as if an elephant had stepped on his chest, he stays sat against the wall. Arms weak at his side, eyes shut, he pays no attention to the snow wetting his tracksuit bottoms. Oddly enough, it’s a nice to have something contradict the heat the rest of his body feels.

“Have this.”

Steve opens his eyes, taking the water bottle Sam’s offering him. His hand’s a little shaky, but he manages to drink the water.

Sam offers him a small smile. He pats his shoulders, then stands up. He looks around, feeling relief spread out through him when he sees that there’s still no one else around. It’s edging on for seven, the sun risen and providing them with light for the first time in the last few weeks. “Let’s go back to mine,” he says to Steve, putting his hand out. He helps the taller man to his feet. “You need a shower, then we can go to Marco’s.”

For once, Steve doesn’t argue. He just nods his head, following Sam at a slower than normal pace. Usually they’d race back to Sam’s, but Steve isn’t going to risk another asthma attack. Besides, all he wants right now is a hot shower and a plate of food.

___

 

Marco’s is a sixties themed diner on the outskirts of the city. It’s run by a group of friends, all of which are in their thirties. Steve and Sam had found it years ago, before Steve had ever met Tony. Before Bucky had even been deployed.

“So, when are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” Sam asks. His voice is so calm and casual, Steve almost hates it.

“No idea what you’re on about,” Steve says, deciding that he’s going to try and dodge the topic, even if he knows it isn’t going to work.

“You know I’m not stupid,” Sam says, sitting up in the booth a little. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong willingly, or do I have to drag it out of you?”

Ideally, Steve would like it if he didn’t have to tell Sam at all. But truthfully, he needs to get this off his chest anyway. “Fine,” Steve sighs, looking at Sam. “Basically...”

Sam sits and listens to what Steve has to say, only interrupting him so he can thank the waitress for bringing their food. “So, she’s just waltzing her way back into your lives?” He asks when Steve finishes.

“Waltzing her way back into their lives,” Steve corrects. “I’ve never had the displeasure of meeting her.”

Sam draws in a small breath,  his hands wrapped around his mug of coffee. “Have you spoken to Tony about this?”

“Kind of,” Steve replies. “He’s not happy about it either, which is reassuring I guess.”

“Reassuring for what?” Sam asks, confused. He clicks on a few seconds later. He frowns, “Wait... Steve, are you worried she’s going to try it on with Tony?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened,” Steve replies. Upon seeing the look on Sam’s face, he shakes his head. “Not to me personally, I mean in general. It wouldn’t be the first time it happens to someone.”

Sam shakes his head. “She left Tony, why would she want him back?”

“She also left Peter, and now she wants contact with him,” Steve points out. “I wouldn’t put her above using Peter as a gateway for what she really wants – another chance with Tony.”

The two of them are silent for a few seconds. Then, “I know Tony wouldn’t do anything,” Steve admits. “But the idea of her coming into the house, trying to build a relationship with my son, possibly trying to get Tony back... it makes me uncomfortable.”

“She’s threatening everything you’ve got,” Sam offers, to which Steve nods. “I get it. But Steve, what’s she really got to offer? Sure, she’s Peter’s mother. But you’ve been in his life for years, he sees you as one of his parental figures. She’s not just going to turn up and erase everything you’ve done for him, nor is she going to break the bond he has with you. As for Tony, you said he isn’t happy that she’s coming, either. Besides, he loves you, not her. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he talks about you as if you hung the stars in the sky.”

Steve laughs softly. “You’re right,” he says, before letting out a breathy sigh. “Thanks, I needed the assurance from someone else.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Sam says.

___

 

The atmosphere in the car is much more relaxed. The radio’s playing on low, and Steve finally feels like he can breath properly. Thankfully the traffic isn’t horrific at this time, although that could also be due to Sam avoiding the city by going a different way.

“I have to ask,” Steve says all of a sudden, breaking the comfortable silence between him and Sam. “Is there something going on between you and Bucky?”

Sam reacts a little too fast. He scoffs, shaking his head. “Me and Bucky? No way,” he insists, keeping his hands on the wheel. “Where’d you get that from?”

Steve smirks. “Oh, really? Nothing at all?” He pries. “Because that’s not what Bucky told me.”

Sam briefly looks at Steve, then turns his eyes back to the road. He tries to keep his cool when asking, “What did he tell you?”

“I’m only messing with you, I just wanted to see how you reacted,” Steve laughed. “Buck didn’t tell me anything.”

Sam glares at him. “I would’ve let you had an asthma attack if I’d known you were going to be such a dick.”

Steve laughs again. “Bullshit.”

“Yeah, I knew you were going to be a dick, you usually are,” Sam jokes.

“But really, is there something going on between you two?” Steve asks.

“Oh look at that,” Sam says, turning the radio up. “My favourite song.”

“This is an advert for a car wash.”

“Don’t hate my jam, Steve,” Sam warns him jokingly, then humming along to the jingle that plays.

When Sam pulls up to Steve’s house, he doesn’t let Steve get out straight away. “Talk to Tony,” he says seriously. “Don’t bottle stuff up. And next time, bring your inhaler. I was winning, but you just had to go and almost have an asthma attack, didn’t you?”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll talk to him,” he promises. He hugs Sam, patting him on the back. “But also, you know I would’ve won anyway. You won once and that was because my shoelace came undone.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Get out of my car.”

___

“You’re finally home!” Peter cheers, running down the stairs.

“Don’t run, Peter,” Steve warns, putting his arms out to catch Peter when he literally jumps into his arms. “You don’t want a repeat of last time, do you?” He asks, referencing a few months back when Peter broke his arm by falling down the stairs.

“But I’ve been waiting for you for _ever_ ,” Peter explains, emphasising the last part of the sentence.

“Why’s that, then?” Steve asks, walking to the kitchen.

“Because I wanted to do some art,” Peter tells him, grabbing his favourite cup when Steve gets a glass for himself.

Steve sets his glass down, allowing Peter to do the same before he goes to the fridge. “You could do art without me,” he points out. “Or dad could do it with you.”

Peter shakes his head. “Dad can’t even draw a fish,” he points out.

“Excuse me,” comes Tony’s voice from the kitchen door, having come downstairs. “My fish are beautiful.”

Peter giggles, but shakes his head. “Papa’s the best drawer.”

“Suppose I can’t argue with you on that one,” Tony admits. He then looking at Steve, “I need to head into work for a bit,” he says with a grimace, which only deepens when Peter makes a sad noise. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Are you going to be back in time for dinner tonight?”

“Hopefully,” Tony answers, watching as Steve carries himself, Peter, and their cups to the table. “If not I’ll let you know.”

“You’re always working,” Peter whines. He rests the back of his head against Steve’s shoulder, but keeps his eyes on Tony. “It isn’t fair.”

Tony purses his lips. “I know, if I could work from home more then I would,” he promises. “But I’m off most of next week, and then we can spend some time together as a family. How’s that?”

“Okay,” Peter says, his mood deflated.

___

After half an hour, Peter’s back to his cheery self. Him and Steve are sat at the kitchen table, both of them painting. Peter’s hands and apron are full of paint, but Steve can’t say he’s much better himself. He’s somehow managed to get paint across his jaw, as well as his hands.

The radio’s playing on the counter. Instead of Steve’s beloved jazz station plating, however, it’s tuned into the family station. Steve hasn’t got a clue what’s playing, but judging by Peter humming and nodding his head, he does.

A vase of flowers is sitting on the table, both the piece of Steve and Peter’s paintings. Both Steve and Tony are always encouraging Peter to create what he wants. To go with what feels right. But sometimes, especially when it’s just him and Steve, he likes to work on a similar piece to his papa.

“Papa,” Peter says, waiting for Steve to look at him, “do you like this?”

Steve looks at the painting. He’s aware he’s highly bias due to Peter being his son, but even if he was to look at the painting from a teacher’s point of view, he’d still claim that Peter’s art skills are ahead for his age range. “It’s wonderful,” he says, smiling when Peter’s face lights up. He ruffles Peter’s hair, “Do you want to put it on the fridge when you’re finished with it? Or it could go in the office.”

Peter shakes his head. “I wanna give this one to mom.”

“Make sure to sign it, then,” Steve says. “Remember to always sign your works.”

Peter does just that. He starts adding the finishing touches on his painting, before stopping to ask Steve another question. “Did my mom leave because of me?” He asks nervously, tugging at his fingers, eyes doe-like.

“What? No, of course not,” Steve frowns, not understanding what’s made Peter ask that. “Why would you think that, bud?”

Peter shrugs his shoulders, looking down at his painting.

Although Steve doesn’t completely believe him, he also knows that sometimes children come to conclusions without good reason. He pulls Peter up and out of his seat, standing him on his lap. “How about we finish these paintings up, have some food, and then we’ll make something out of your baking book?”

Peter shakes his head. “Milkshakes.”

“You want to make milkshakes instead?”

Peter nods his head to confirm. “Strawberry ones.”

Steve realises that they’ll most likely have to go to the store to get the needed ingredients. And although he doesn’t really want to, he’ll do so for Peter. “Strawberry’s good, but what about vanilla?”

“Boring!” Peter declares. “Strawberry’s the best, then chocolate, then banana, _then_ vanilla.”

“Very well,” Steve says, laughing lightly. He places Peter back on his chair. “Let’s finish up here, then we’ll go to the store.”

___

It’s no surprise to Steve when they come back from the store with items that weren’t on the list. The list consisted of under ten groceries, purely for the milkshake. Yet here Steve is, bringing the last of the five shopping bags in. Peter helps him put the groceries away, leaving the ingredients for the milkshakes out.

It’s also no surprise that both Steve and Peter make a mess whilst making the milkshakes. Both of them are always making a mess. Whether it’s painting, baking/cooking, or even just a simple task like doing the dishes, there’s always a mess. Tony, on the other hand, is much more clean.

They make two milkshakes, both of which turn out bigger than planned. Peter’s is strawberry, consisting of the strawberry milkshake made from a packet, strawberry ice cream, whipped cream, and two strawberries cut in half and placed on top. Steve’s consists of the same, only everything is vanilla flavoured, and he has marshmallows instead of strawberries.

After that, Peter watches cartoons whilst Steve marks works. He’s half way through reading an analysis of a student’s work, when there’s a knock at the door. Leaving the sketchbook on the coffee table, he goes to the door, Peter trailing after him.

“Ned!” Peter says excitedly when Steve opens the door to reveal his best friend, along with his mom.

“Hi Steve,” Ned’s mom says. “Ned was wondering if Peter would like to stay the night at ours. I did ring a couple of times, but I couldn’t get through to either you or Tony.”

“My phone’s upstairs, my apologies,” Steve says. He leaves out the part that it’s upstairs because he can barely work it. He places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “Peter, would you like to?”

Peter nods his head enthusiastically. “You can help me pack my bag!” He exclaims to Ned, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the stairs.

“Peter! No running up the stairs!” Steve calls out to his son, watching him slow down only for the last few steps. He turns back to Ned’s mom, inviting her in.

The two sit in the living room, Steve apologising for the mess. He moves Peter’s book off the couch, shaking his head, “He never tidies up.”

“Ned’s just as bad, don’t worry,” the woman laughs. “Whenever I ask him to tidy up, I’m pretty sure he creates more of a mess.”

Steve chuckles, knowing exactly what she means.

Ten minutes later, Peter and Ned come back down. Peter’s got his backpack on, but is also holding Lozo in his arms. “Lozo needs to come with me,” he declares.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Because Ned doesn’t have a cat!” Peter explains. “So, we’re sharing Lozo now.”

“That’s a sweet idea, but we have a dog, Peter,” Ned’s mom points out. “She and Lozo wouldn’t get on.”

Peter pouts, keeping the cat in his arms. “Are you sure?”

She nods her head. “Unfortunately,” she confirms, although she’s smiling. “Thank you, though. It was a very thoughtful idea.”

Peter sighs. “Okay,” he replies, defeated. He sets the feline down, patting its head softly. He does this for a few seconds until Lozo exits the room.

With that, Steve gives Peter the ‘be good’ and ‘don’t forget your manners’ talks, before he bids farewell to the trio. Now, on his own, he starts cleaning up. He and Tony are often strict about making Peter take responsibility and clean up after himself. Not always, though. It’s part of being a parent to pick up a mess that isn’t yours.

By the time he’s done everything else he needs to do – mark work, shower, put the trash out – Tony’s arrives home. Steve’s surprised to say the least, not having expected him to be back until early morning.

“This is a nice surprise,” he grins, laid out on the couch. He puts his book down on his chest, moving into a sitting position.

Tony returns the grin, “You’re telling me.” He undoes his tie, leaving it on the arm of the chair. He sits next to his husband, “Is Peter upstairs?”

Steve shakes his head. He wraps his arm around Tony, smiling when he leans into Steve’s side. “He’s gone to Ned’s for the night.”

Tony nods his head. "Is he back in the morning?”

“Afternoon, maybe evening,” Steve replies. “Ned’s mom is taking them out.”

Instead of verbally answering, Tony responds with a small hum.

Noticing how exhausted Tony is, Steve pulls him closer. “I don’t want to cook tonight. Want to get a takeout?”

“Sounds good,” Tony replies, closing his eyes. “I’m going to have a nap first, though.”

“All right, I’ll wake you up when food gets here. Chinese or Indian?”

“Pizza,” Tony tells him.

Steve chuckles, “Pizza it is.”

___

“You know, I think he actually loves you,” Tony says, watching as Steve tries to pick Lozo up, only for him to hiss at him. Tony takes a bite of pizza, stood next to the bed.

Steve glares at him. “He hates me and we all know it.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “He does not hate you,” he insists. He finishes the pizza in another bite, then picks up Lozo. The sphinx cat immediately starts purring the moment Tony scratches its head. “See? He’s so loving.”

“To you, maybe.” Steve pulls the bed sheets back, before getting in. “To me, however, he isn’t.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Tony tells Lozo, “he’s just grumpy.”

Steve shakes his head fondly. He watches as Tony puts the cat out of the room, then gets into bed with him. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m off for a week after that, though.”

“A week?” Steve asks, laying down so he can rest his head on the pillows. “I thought it was only a few days you were taking off.”

“Do you not want me off for longer?” Tony teases, laying down too.

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Steve lays on his side, facing Tony, “you rarely take a week off.”

“Did I not mention earlier?” Tony asks. From the look on Steve’s face, he can tell he didn’t. “Pepper rung me at work. She’s going to be here in a few days. I took some extra time off so I’m around.”

Steve feels a pang of anxiety in his chest. He didn’t think she’d be coming this soon. He thought he had more time to get his head around it. “Oh,” is all he says.

Tony frowns. He moves his hand to cup Steve’s face, “What?” He asks. “You knew she was coming.”

“It’s not that,” Steve explains. “Well, maybe it is. I don’t know. I just...”

“C’mon, tell me,” Tony encourages him. He sits up and turns the lamp on. He looks down at Steve, “Is it what you were saying the other night?”

“Yes, but that’s not it.” Steve pushes himself up in bed, resting against the pillows. He looks at Tony, “It feels like she’s threatening everything. She’s Peter’s mother, she’s your ex fiancé and CEO. She was a big part of your life, and when I think about her just waltzing back into your and Peter’s life, I get angry. But more than that, I worry. What if she still has feelings for you? What if she wants custody of Peter?”

“I didn’t know it was bothering you this much,” Tony admits. He moves his hand over Steve’s, giving it a squeeze. “Listen, nothing is going to happen between Pepper and myself. Even if she does like me, which I doubt she does, then I’d never go back to her. I don’t like her as a friend, let alone in that way,” he explains, smiling at the small chuckle Steve gives. “I love you, not her. You’re the one I’m married to, who I live with, who I’ve brought _our_ son up with.”

“You’re right,” Steve says, although there’s still anxiety inside of him. “It’ just hard to come to terms with, I guess. I don’t want her to hurt you or Peter.”

“I don’t want that either, but I can’t promise she won’t. If I’m honest, I never thought I’d hear off her again,” Tony replied. “I spent a long time trying to get her to get in contact with me, but she never did. I was shocked when she left. In my eyes, everything was going well.”

Steve lets out a shaky sigh. “Do you think she wants custody of Peter?”

“Honestly? No, I don’t,” Tony says. “I think she may want to see him more often, but even then, she doesn’t exactly live around the corner.”

Steve cocks his head to the side. “How do you know where she lives?”

The apples of Tony’s cheeks turn red. “I, uh, I found out where she lived a week after she left. She moved to live in Italy, runs a business of her own. I almost flew there to see her, but I had Peter to worry about.”

Steve frowns, moving his hand to sit on Tony’s hip. “You never told me this.”

Tony shrugs his shoulder. “Once I met you I lost all interest in her, anyway. She wasn’t important to me, anymore.” He returns the smile Steve is giving him. “But back to the point at hand, nothing’s going to happen between me and her, and Peter’s still our,” he points between the two of them, “son.”

Steve relaxes. “Okay,” he nods, moving forward so he can peck Tony on the lips.

Tony returns the brief kiss, before he lays down. When Steve lays down, too, he curls into his side, laying his head on his chest. “It’s your turn to read tonight.”

Steve hums, agreeing. As much as Tony loves to read, he barely has the time to read. As for Steve, he can get through a book within two days. So, to try and help them both (giving Tony time to read, and Steve not having to buy new books constantly), they read one book together at night, taking turns in who reads it. Of course, Steve still reads other books on the side, but he much prefer to do it with Tony.

Once Steve’s got the book and turned the lamp on, he starts reading. He’s halfway through the chapter when he realises that Tony’s fallen asleep, his hand on Steve’s chest, his mouth slightly open. Steve puts the book in the drawer, turns the lamp off, and closes his eyes. He wraps an arm around Tony.

There’s still anxiety bubbling around meeting Pepper, but it’s not as bad as it had been. Steve kisses Tony’s head and lets out a small sigh. Even if Pepper comes into the picture permanently, Steve realises it doesn’t mean he’s going to lose his family. And at the end of the day, that’s what really matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The technique Sam uses Steve to help him control his breathing/avoid an asthma attack is one that my grandmother taught me. I don't know if it's medically correct.
> 
> If you'd like to talk or follow me on twitter, my account is [here](https://twitter.com/stark_protect)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki, more Sam and Bucky, and Pepper being introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. This update is overdue and I am. So sorry. I always plan to update on a certain date and then it just... never goes to plan. It sucks and I'm super sorry, because I know how annoying it can be, To try and make up for it, I've made this chapter longer than the other chapters. I've also decided to write more Sam/Bucky into this fic, because I'm loving them (and I hope you guys are, too!).
> 
> Thank you to all of you for supporting this fic, leaving kudos, comments, bookmarking it, and even tweeting me about this! I really appreciate it all, you guys rock.
> 
> Oh, and one more thing! I always make Loki call Tony 'Anthony' at least once and idk if it's just me or a fandom thing?? I think it's a fandom thing, but I may be wrong.

Tony can’t decide if coming to the airport on his own was a good idea or not. His anxiety hasn’t been the kindest to him these last few years, but right now, he feels like it’s trying to reach a whole new level. Pepper coming back into his life is the last thing he wants, and if it wasn’t for Peter, Tony would have never agree to this.

Having time to spare before the flight is due to land, he sits in one of the many cafes are the airport. Due to not wanting anyone to recognise him and take pictures, he’s dressed in casual attire. He’s deep into his thoughts when he feels a hand clamp down on his shoulder, causing him to jump. A small squeak leaves his lips.

His head whips around, and when he sees who it is, he relaxes a little bit.

“You are always _so_ easy to scare, Anthony,” Loki smirks, sitting opposite the man.

A hand over his chest, Tony narrows his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?” He removes the sunglasses from his face, but keeps the baseball cap on.

Loki nods. Holding his hands together, resting them on the table. “Mostly my father.”

Tony nods his head to Loki, tilting his cup of coffee in Loki’s direction, “Join the club.” He takes a sip of his coffee, “What’re you doing here?”

Sitting back in his chair, Loki crosses one leg over the other. His hands fold over his chest, “Can I not simply enjoy the wonderful atmosphere of an airport?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “You could, but that’s weird.”

“I’m picking Thor up,” Loki explains, shoulders tensing slightly. “As you know, our mother is ill. He’s here for one of his bi-yearly visit.”

Tony’s aware of the situation between the two brothers. A few years ago, Odin and Frigga divorced. Although Loki and Thor are grown men, in some ways they reacted to the splitting of their family like children. Loki sided with their mother, whilst Thor sided with their father. Once the divorce was finalised, the house sold and profit split, Odin left the state, and Thor followed without hesitation. Frigga fell ill around a year and a half later.

“Do you want a coffee?” Tony asks in attempt of shifting the conversation to something else. “They’re not half bad here.”

With a raised hand, Loki scrunches up his nose. “I’ve never been a fan of this place,” he admits. “I can brew better stuff at home.”

“I don’t know, it’s pretty good,” Tony insists, smiling at the face Loki makes. He shrugs, moving the cup up to his mouth, “Suit yourself.”

“I will, thank you,” Loki replies. “And before you bring something else up, why’re you here?” He moves his head, looking under the table and by Tony’s chair. “No bags...” He looks back at Tony, sitting back in the chair, “Who’re you picking up?

Tony inhales. “Pepper,” he tells him. Tony’s eyes are downcast on the table, but he can feel Loki’s eyes on him.

Silence momentarily falls between them, and then, in a serious tone of voice comes, “Tony, tell me this is a joke.”

Tony looks up. Instead of the angry expression he was expecting from Loki, there’s one of worry written across his face. Tony’s pretty sure he’d prefer the angry expression. “It’s not,” he says, drumming his fingers against the table.

“Have you forgotten what she did to you?” Loki asks, the anger that Tony had expected seeping through into Loki’s voice. “What she put you through?”

Although he knows his friend is simply concerned, Tony feels anger spark inside of him. “Of course I haven’t forgotten,” he says, irritated.

“Then why on earth is she coming here?” Loki asks, raising an eyebrow in annoyance.“Is there something I’m missing?”

Tony closes his eyes, then forces himself to take a breath. “No,” he says slowly, “She wants contact with Peter, I couldn’t deny her it.”

“Yes you could have,” Loki hisses, his hands curling into fists on the table. “She’s never done anything for him, why should she have the chance to now?

Tony looks at his friend. “Because at the end of the day, she’s still his mother,” he explains. “She gave birth to him, she carried him for nine months, she-“

“Abandoned him in the middle of the night,” Loki snaps. A few fellow customers look over at them, but Loki ignores them. “What does Steve make of all this?”

“He isn’t fond of her coming, but he understands it’s for Peter’s sake,” Tony replies through gritted teeth, trying to keep his anger at bay.

Loki shakes his head, standing up. “She’s no good to any of you,” he says with a shake of his head, pushing his chair under the table. “Say hi to Peter and Steve for me.”

There’s not a chance to reply, however, because Loki’s left the cafe sooner than Tony can open his mouth. He groans, running a hand over his face. On one hand, he understands Loki’s anger. He’d seen the aftermaths Pepper had caused when she left. Loki had never been keen on her in the first place, but her sudden exit from Tony’s life made him truly hate her. On the other hand, he’s just trying to do the best thing for Peter.

Tony lets out a sigh. Why is nothing ever easy for him?

___

“You’re not knocking hard enough,” Peter huffs, looking up at Steve. “You gotta knock like this,” he explains, banging his fist against the door before he can be stopped.

“Peter don’t do that,” Steve says seriously, although he is biting back laughter. He moves Peter’s hand away from the door, “If uncle Sam isn’t in, we’ll go-“

Steve’s interrupted by the sound of the locks on the other side of the door. Both he and Peter watch as the door open, only instead of Sam standing there, it’s Bucky. His hair’s pulled into a loose, messy bun, and he looks like he’s only just woken up. He and Steve stare at each other for a couple of seconds, Steve looking far too smug for Bucky’s liking.

“Bucky!” Peter cries, breaking the silence.

Bucky, with burning red cheeks, looks down at Peter. He smiles, “Hey kiddo,” he greets him, pulling him up into his arms.

“Bucky, who is it?” Comes Sam’s voice from upstairs.

“Come see for yourself,” Bucky replies, moving aside from the door and gesturing for Steve to come in.

Steve steps in, a smirk on his face. “I knew it.”

“This proves nothing,” Bucky insists, holding Peter on his hip.

“Whatever you say,” Steve shakes his head, “nice top, by the way.”

Bucky looks down at his top, then shrugs. “Thanks.”

Steve hums, “I remember when I bought it was Sam’s birthday last year.”

Bucky licks his lips. However, before he can respond, Sam’s making his way downstairs.

“Steve, what’re you doing here?” He asks, stood on the second to last stair. He crosses his arms over his chest in a defensive manner. “I thought today was, you know, _the_ day.”

“It is,” Steve assures him. “But she won’t be here for a few hours, Tony wants to speak to her first,” he explains. “Thought we’d come see you, and now I’ve seen this,” he points between Sam and Bucky, he starts smirking again“I’m extremely happy we came over.”

Sam rolls his eyes, stepping down from the stairs. He starts heading towards the kitchen, “Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m good, I had food before we left,” Steve replies. He looks at Peter, “Do you want anything, Peter? You didn’t eat much of your cereal this morning.

Peter shakes his head. “Not hungry,” he replies, before getting distracted by Bucky’s hair, starting to twist it.

“What about some juice?” Sam suggests.

Peter seems to think about it for a couple of seconds, before he nods. Attention still on Bucky’s hair, he replies, “Apple.”

“Apple what?” Steve prompts.

Peter corrects himself, “Apple, please.”

Sam nods his head, then looks at Bucky. “Want what you normally have?”

“Yeah, but not as much butter on the toast this time.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but Steve catches the fondness in his facial expression. “All right. Do me a favour and turn the TV on for Peter.”

“Are the remotes still on the fireplace?”

“Do we put them anywhere else?”

Bucky sticks his tongue at Sam, before heading into the lounge with Peter.

“I knew it,” Steve sing-songs, following Sam into the kitchen.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Sam insists. “How do you know he didn’t just stay the night here?

“What reason would he have to stay here?” Steve questions. “His house is a twenty minute taxi drive from here. Besides, he’s wearing your top, Sam.”

Sam makes a noise that’s a mix between a groan and a sigh. “All right, fine,” he turns to look at Steve, who’s leaning against the counter, “we’ve been on a couple of dates, but that’s it.”

One of Steve’s eyebrows raise. He folds his arms, “Am I supposed to believe that?”

“Do what you want with it, that’s all I’m telling you,” Sam replies. “Now, enough about me,” he gets some plates out of the cupboard, “what time are you expecting Pepper?”

The smugness Steve was feeling is swiftly replaced with dread. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Few hours, maybe,” he tells his friend. “I’m not really sure. Like I said, Tony wants to talk to her first, so it depends on how long that takes.”

“Is Peter excited?”

“He’s a bit nervous, but he’s mostly excited,” Steve replies, sighing softly. He scratches at the stubble on his cheek, “I just don’t want him getting hurt.”

Sam pats Steve’s arm, “Well, whatever happens, he’s got you and Tony.”

The two of them stay in the kitchen until Sam’s made breakfast, of which Steve helps take into the lounge. They set it down on the table, and Steve doesn’t know who moves faster to the table – Bucky, or Peter.

They eat in mostly silence, other than Peter telling Bucky about school and why he doesn’t like Flash. Bucky, being one of Peter’s favourite uncles, listens with keen ears and genuine interest. Once they’re finished, Sam and Steve take the plates into the kitchen. Peter follows after them.

“I wanna go to the park,” Peter says, tugging on Steve’s shirt, voice slightly whiny.

“The park?” Sam asks, looking down at Peter. “Don’t you think it’s too cold?”

Peter shakes his head, before turning his attention back to his pops. “Please,” he whines, turning on his puppy dog eyes, hands twisted into his pops’ shirt.

Steve puts the plates down, “All right, let me-“

“I wanna go with Bucky,” Peter interrupts him. “Bucky lets me go higher on the swings.”

Steve blinks, before shrugging his shoulders. “Okay, but you’re going to have to go ask him.” He watches Peter excitedly run back to the lounge, before he turns to Sam. “Gives me time to grill you more about Bucky.”

Sam all but rolls his eyes. “And I thought Natasha was the one who was bad for gossip.”

___

Bucky isn’t a fan of the cold. He isn’t as bad as Steve was when they were younger, although that was mostly due to Steve’s immune system being awful. The cold has just never been for Bucky, and if it wasn’t for Peter, he wouldn’t have left Sam’s house today. But in all the years he’s known Peter, he’s rarely ever said no to him. He thinks that’s why he’s one of Peter’s favourite ‘uncles’.

The two of them make their way to the park, next to each other on the sidewalk. Peter’s not a fan of having to hold hands with an adult when he’s out, but he’ll hold onto Bucky’s fingers. Bucky doesn’t see the difference, but as long as he can keep Peter safe, that’s what matters.

It’d stopped snowing a few days ago, so the slides and swings in the park are dry, but the air is still chilly. As Peter lets go of Bucky’s hand to run to the slide, Bucky pulls his coat tighter to his body. He watches Peter go on the slide a couple of times, before he runs to the swings.

Luckily there’s no one else in the park, which means Bucky doesn’t have to remind him to be careful. Peter doesn’t always look where he’s going, and the last time he’d been with Bucky in the park, he’d ran in front of someone on the swing, which resulted in him getting kicked in the face. Luckily the kid on the swing hadn’t been going fast nor high, but Bucky felt awful for it.

Bucky lifts Peter into the swing, smiles at how excited Peter looks, before he starts to push him. He stands in front of the swing, and every time Peter swings towards him, they high-five.

If anyone had told Bucky years ago that this was his life – no longer in the military, looking after his best friend’s kid, and dating a guy – he would’ve laughed. Bucky had expected to serve in the military until he was too old. Instead, he served in the military until there was an accident that caused him to lose his arm. That was, undoubtedly, the biggest shock of his life. He was told that he was lucky not to have any worse injuries – he could still walk, he didn’t have a head injury, he could still do a lot with his life. But Bucky hadn’t seen it that way. For months he was wrapped up in anger and went through depressive episodes, refusing to accept that this was how he had to live his life.

It took him six months after the accident to even consider the prosthetic arm, and another two months to accept that he could’ve serve anymore. It was a shock to the system – he’d served in the military almost all his life, it was almost all he’d known.

Going to a therapy group was the best thing Steve had roped him in to doing. He’d been reluctant at first, but when he saw he wasn’t alone, that there were other ex-military people with similar and different issues, he no longer felt alone.

As for the other things that have occurred these last couple of years – being an ‘uncle’, dating Sam, they were a shock as well. He’d never thought he would have his own kids, let alone have a ‘nephew’. Although, in hindsight, he doesn’t know why. Steve’s always wanted a family, it makes sense that Bucky would be the ‘uncle’ to the kid.

Dating Sam, on the other hand, really was something he’d never saw coming. Bucky had no romantic interest in guys whatsoever. Up until Sam, the closest thing to being with a guy that Bucky had was pretending to be Steve’s boyfriend when they were in clubs back when they were younger. And that was only because, somehow, creeps always hit on Steve.

Liking Sam was like a breath of fresh air but also a swift punch to the guts. Bucky understood why he liked Sam – he was good looking, funny, had great banter and other things. What Bucky didn’t understand was how it took so long to realise he liked both girls and guys. He knew it took some people longer to figure out their sexuality in comparison to others, but it still confused the hell out of Bucky. Eventually, he’d learnt not to think about it. It was easier to accept it rather than overthink it and potentially ruin a good thing. With that said, he and Sam haven’t been dating that long. After drunkenly kissing a few months back, then a month ignoring each other, they finally spoke about it and agreed to take things slowly.

“The swings are boring now,” Peter says, which is his way of saying he wants to get off.

Bucky slows the swing down, then gets Peter out. “What do you want to do next, then?”

“Umm...” Peter trails off, thinking. “I know! I want to have ice cream,” he grins.

“What? Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow. “Peter, it’s,” he looks at his watch, “half nine, it’s way too early for ice cream.”

Peter pouts, “Please uncle Bucky,” he pleads.

“There’s a café ‘round the corner that does breakfast, you can have that, but you’re not having ice cream,” Bucky says, putting his foot down for once.

Peter huffs, folding his arms over his chest and stamping his foot. “You’re no fun.”

Bucky picks him up, using one arm to support Peter on his hip. “I’m no fun?”

Peter, with his arms still folded, shakes his head. “Boring,” he states, looking away from Bucky.

Bucky tickles under Peter’s chin, grinning when Peter erupts with giggles, trying to push his hand away. “What was that? I’m boring?”

Through his giggles and shrieks, Peter nods his head. Only when Bucky starts tickling under his arm, Peter changes his mind. “Not boring!” He declares, giggling.

Bucky stops tickling him. “Didn’t think so,” he smiles. “Now, do you want to go have some toast?”

Peter nods his head, “And orange juice,” he decides.

“Well obviously,” Bucky replies, setting Peter down. Once Peter’s holding onto Bucky’s fingers, they start walking. “Toast without orange juice? That’s just silly.”

When they get to the café, Bucky gets a text off Steve, asking how Peter is. Bucky replies, explaining that they’re now getting breakfast, before turning his attention back to Peter. The young boy is sat opposite Bucky in the booth, although due to his height, he can just about see over the table.

Bucky chuckles, taking his jacket off. “Use this as a booster,” he says, folding his jacket up and handing it to Peter. He watches as Peter sits on it, now able to see over the table. “Better?”

Peter nods his head, then reaching for the menu. When Peter struggles to reach it, Bucky passes it to him. “Thanks,” Peter says, then opening the menu.

Bucky looks at his phone when he gets a reply, only to look up when there’s an exasperated sigh from across the table. He looks over at Peter, seeing that he’s sat with a frown on his face, arms folded. “What’s causing that grey cloud over your head?” Bucky asks.

“They don’t do ice cream for breakfast,” Peter huffs.

Bucky can’t help but laugh, which earns him a glare from Peter. “Are you still hung up on that idea?”

Peter nods.

“Tell you what,” Bucky starts, getting Peter’s attention. “Have a proper breakfast today, and the next time I see you, we’ll have ice cream.”

Peter mulls the idea over, before eventually nodding. “Okay.”

___

“So, it all started with a drunken kiss?”

Sam nods his head, sat next on the couch with Steve. “We didn’t talk for a while after that. It wasn’t until Natasha made us talk that we sorted things out.”

“Wait, Natasha knew about it?”

“Are you really surprised?” Sam chuckles. “She knows things about people that not even they know.”

Steve nods. “That’s true enough,” he admits. “So, are you and Bucky official or?”

“Dating, but not with labels,” Sam explains. “We’re taking it slowly. I’ve never been one to rush into relationships, but alongside that, I’ve never had the time for them.”

“I understand that,” Steve replies. “But you guys are happy, right?”

“That we are,” Sam assures him. “Now, can we stop talking about my love life and get back to the show?”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, I’m just going to text Bucky, see how Peter’s doing.” He gets his phone out of his pocket, but just as he’s about to text Bucky, a text from Tony comes through.

_Just picked Pepper up. Going to have words first. I’ll tell you when we’re on the way._

Steve sucks in a breath, before replying.

_At Sam’s right now. Peter’s in the park with Bucky, let me know when we need to head back home._

He puts his phone on his lap, leans his head back, and sighs louder than intended. He can feel Sam’s eyes on him.

“Tony?”

Steve hums.

“Guessing he just picked Pepper up?”

“Yep,” Steve replies. He quickly texts Bucky before turning to Sam. “Put something on before I worry more.”

“Got it,” Sam says, pressing play on the remote.

___

Tony, although a genius, gets things wrong. It happens more than he’d like to admit, but it’s usually small things. Forgetting to fill the biscuit jar up after eating the last cookie, and almost drinking Steve’s paint water when it’s near his coffee are the two most common things. However, turning up two hours at the airport before he needs to be there isn’t just something he’s never done before. He’d only realised he was too early when he got to the departure terminal and Pepper wasn’t there. The flight that landed was from Sicily. The text Pepper had sent him with her flight details explained she was coming from Veneto.

Now, standing at the back of the crowd at the departure terminal, he keeps checking the text Pepper sent him. _Departure terminal 3, flight from Veneto, 09:30._ Tony checks the time (09:31), then the number of the departure terminal (3), then the electronic board (‘ _Flight from Veneto has just landed’_ ). He sucks in a breath, runs a hand over his face, and watches through the people in front of him as people start to arrive.

A bunch of people spill into the room – relatives, partners, friends. Tony watches as people hug and cry happily with one another. He occupies himself with watching for Pepper in the mass of people.

When she does arrive (being one of the last people to do so), Tony recognises her straight away. She looks almost the same as she did all those years ago. Tall, slim, red hair down in loose waves. She’s wearing a business suit, which, is no surprise. She looks around, and when her eyes finally land on Tony, she gives him a small smile.

Tony forces a smile, before moving through the crowd to get to her. “Well,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets,“it’s been a while.”

Pepper’s smile saddens, but she nods her head. “I know.”

They stand in silence, staring at one another awkwardly for a few moments before Tony snaps out of it. He takes Pepper’s luggage for her. “Car’s parked outside,” he explains, starting to walk, making sure to keep slightly ahead of Pepper. “Where is it that you’re staying?”

“The St. Regis,” Pepper replies.

Tony nods his head. He knows the hotel – it’s about an hour and a half drive, excluding traffic. He braces himself for an awkward, possibly argumentative car ride.

“I thought Happy would’ve drove here,” Pepper says, now walking next to Tony.

“He doesn’t drive me around for personal matters anymore,” Tony replies. “Besides, he’s on holidays right now.”

“Oh,” is all Pepper replies with.

They get outside and make their way to Tony’s car. He’s brought Steve’s car instead of his own, purely for the fact he wanted a casual car instead of one of his own.

“This is yours?” Pepper asks, stood at the back of the car.

“Steve’s, actually,” Tony explains, opening the boot. He puts the suitcase in, then shuts the boot. He looks at Pepper, “He isn’t one for flashy items.”

The car ride is as awful and awkward as Tony had thought it would be. There were attempts (from Pepper) of small talk, but Tony didn’t give answers that lead into conversation. Being in the same space as Pepper again, after all that happened, isn’t comfortable for Tony. Even now as he walks with Pepper to her hotel room, he doesn’t feel right. It feels wrong, her being back in his life.

Pepper opens the door to her room, leading the way inside. The room is highly extravagant, and when Tony steps in to have a better look, he realises that it leads to another room. One room is a bedroom, the other is like a small lounge, which then leads to the bathroom. The ‘lounge’ is home to vintage but in excellent condition furniture, featuring everything you’d find in a normal lounge. There’s also a large mirror and windows, of which you can cover with rich, velvet curtains. The bedroom has a large bed, fitted with thick, expensive sheets.

“Wow,” Pepper says, looking around the room. She lets herself sit down on the bed, amazed by the room.

Tony doesn’t sit down with her, instead opting to stay standing. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “We need to talk,” he says, getting Pepper’s attention, “because I can’t just let you waltz in and out of Peter’s life.”

Pepper licks her lips, her hands folded on her lap. She nods her head, “That’s fair.”

Tony’s taken back by that slightly, having expected her to start an argument. He coughs, “Okay good.” He looks up at the ceiling, before sighing once again. He isn’t sure how he’s meant to go about this.

“I shouldn’t have walked out on the two of you,” Pepper says, breaking the silence. She grimaces when Tony looks at her. “It wasn’t fair on either of you. I’m sorry.”

Tony shakes his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Why’d you do it?” He asks, voice thickening.. “Did I not give you everything you wanted? Was what we had not good enough for you.”

“Tony, it wasn’t you-”

“Bullshit.” Tony shakes his head. If this conversation had happened years ago, he’d be getting angry. But right now he’s not angry, he just still doesn't know Pepper’s reason for leaving. “If it wasn’t me then why’d you leave?” He asks.

“I was scared!” Pepper exclaims, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. “I never thought we’d have children,” she shakes her head, “I never thought I’d find myself in that position. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Neither did I, Pepper,” Tony replies, licking his lips. “I was even more lost when you left us. I had to raise him by myself.”

“I know it was scary but-”

“You have no idea,” Tony’s voice wavers. “I was all on my own, I had another life to take care of all on my own, all whilst trying to run a business, and trying to work out why you left.”

Pepper bows her head. She wipes tears from her eyes, smearing mascara across her face. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice weak. She looks up, “I shouldn’t have left.”

Tony takes a deep breath. There’s more he has to say, but he dismisses it all. He needs to get on with Pepper for the sake of Peter. He walks over to the bed and sits down. ““You have one chance with Peter,” he says, voice soft. Pepper raising her head to look at him, and he forces a smile. “Don’t ruin this for him, or yourself, for that matter.”

Pepper nods her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Thank you,” she says quietly. When Tony doesn’t say anything else, she stands up,  brushing the non-existent dust off her skirt. “I’m going to clean myself, and then…”

“Then you can meet Peter,” Tony confirms.“

___

Steve sits on the couch of the lounge, watching Peter. The young boy is stood on the armchair by the window, looking out excitedly. He’s changed from the casual attire Steve picked out for him this morning. Instead, he’s now wearing a blue button down top and a pair of beige pants. ‘I want to look good for when mom comes,’ he’d explained when Steve had questioned his decision to change.

On the coffee table, next to a sleeping Lozo and Steve’s book, is the painting Peter’s done for Pepper, alongside a bunch of flowers, also for her. They’d walked past a florist on the way home, and Peter was too enthusiastic about the idea for Steve to say no.

Just as Steve looks away from Peter to check his phone, Peter lets out an excited screech. Steve’s head whips up immediately, watching Peter jump off the armchair.

“They’re here!”

Although there’s anxiety pulsing through him, Steve pushes it aside for Peter’s sake. He gives him the most genuine smile he can muster, and stands up. He hands Peter the flowers and painting, before walking to the front door with Peter. He kneels down behind him. “Calm down Peter, it’ll be fine,” he promises, noticing Peter shifting from one foot to the other. He presses a kiss to his temple.

The door unlocks, opening to reveal Tony. He smiles at his husband and son, but Steve can tell it isn’t as genuine as he’s making it out to be. He steps in, and in follows Pepper. She’s exactly how she looks in the photos Tony showed Steve.

“Hi,” Pepper greets Peter softly. She steps forward, kneeling in front of him and offering him a smile.

“Hi,” Peter replies quietly. He takes two small steps forward, then holds out the presents for her.

“Are these for me?” Pepper asks, carefully taking the flowers and painting off Peter.

Peter nods his head, nervously playing with his fingers. “Uh huh.”

Pepper sniffs the flowers, then looks at the painting. A smile appears on her face. “Thank you, Peter. I love them.”

Steve and Tony watch as Peter gives Pepper a hug, his arms wrapped around her neck, her arms around his back. Out of instinct (and protectiveness, he supposes), Steve wraps an arm around Tony. “Are you okay?” He whispers into his ear.

Tony nods his head, sliding his hand onto the lower region of Steve’s back. Softly, he grasps the material of his shirt in his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he whispers, deciding he’ll talk to Steve properly later. He looks up at him “Are you?”

Steve nods his head. “I’m fine,” he assures Tony, kissing his forehead. He looks back at their son and Pepper, relief flooding through him when he sees Peter’s now smiling at what Pepper’s saying. He squeezes Tony’s waist softly. “Just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on twitter, [here](https://twitter.com/stark_protect) \- I would love to talk to you guys on there <3


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